


Keep You Company

by typicaltorii



Series: Confessions Over Coffee [1]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Diner!AU, Fluff and Angst, GOD I LOVE THESE BOYS, Kinda, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mentioned Patton Sanders - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Doubt, honestly this gets a little dark guys, possible triggers, there may be triggers for some out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 22:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicaltorii/pseuds/typicaltorii
Summary: We've all run from our thoughts before. Virgil tries to escape his in a 60s diner at 2am with the cute server working there.(Diner!AU Basically)





	Keep You Company

**Author's Note:**

> listen. if you are artistically inclined, please (PLEASE) feel free to do fanart of this. it would make my life and honestly?? i need to see Roman in a 60s server get up n o w
> 
> UPDATE!!  
> royallyanxious on tumblr made a MOODBOARD W H A T  
> So please please please check it out because it actually made me actually squeal in delight  
> Here's the link: https://royallyanxious.tumblr.com/post/172530871819/moodboard-of-the-day-diner-au-moodboard
> 
> Also I drew Roman. I couldn't help myself.  
> Link: https://typical-torii.tumblr.com/post/172580985228/royallyanxious-so-i-ended-up-drawing-roman-from

Nights like tonight always messed with Virgil the worst. His room was too cold, the silence too loud, the loneliness too...everywhere. It was two weeks until winter break and Virgil was nearly at the end of his rope with the stress finals brought around.

Of course, one part of Virgil’s brain, a very small and muted part, knew that Virgil didn't have much to worry about. He was too paranoid to let his grades slip below an 85, studied until every hour of the night, and finished major projects weeks in advance so he could worry about more pressing issues. He was essentially set for finals, more than prepared.

_But…_

He couldn't help the creeping sensation that he was failing at everything, that he was simply drifting along aimlessly through the universe, that his existence was, is, and forever will be an insignificant grain of sand in the all-encompassing desert that is time and space.

He was directionless, useless, unimportant.

It was these thoughts that drove him out of his room at 2am and down the hall.

He needed to get out of his room, out of his house, or he was going to go crazy.

Sure, Patton would be concerned if he woke up in the middle of the night to find his adopted son’s bed empty, but Virgil would worry about that later.

So Virgil slipped on his shoes and exited through the garage, making sure to lock up after himself. He didn't have a destination in mind, but he was vaguely aware that the only meal he had eaten over the past 24 hours was a granola bar and half a cup of apple juice, so he wandered down the street to a shabby 24-hour diner that looked like it had dropped straight out of the 60s.

The bell over the door echoed in the quiet diner and Virgil could immediately smell coffee, as though the aroma had seeped into the walls themselves over decades. The diner was empty and the distinct sound of something bubbling was the only thing keeping Virgil company. As much as Virgil’s flight or fight reaction was kicking in, he was frozen to the spot as he looked over the checkered floor and vinyl booths. This places was calming and unsettling at the same time.

The eerie quiet was shattered as a young man, maybe a year or two older than Virgil, in a red apron bustled through a swinging door at the end of the long counter, carrying two large plastic bags of coffee beans and chatting animatedly into a flip phone perched between his shoulder and ear. He looked the part at this diner, white button shirt tucked into black slacks, his hair gelled back in almost an absurd fashion.

The man nearly let out a yell as he spotted Virgil at the door, a plastic bag slipping from his grasp and flopping unceremoniously to the ground. Virgil nearly chuckled, but his chest felt too heavy to even do that.

The man looked between the dropped bag and Virgil, mouth opening and closing before remembering that he was in the middle of a call.

“Hey, Rem, I'll call you back. There's...actually someone here. Yeah, like a customer,” the man said spastically as he nudged the dropped bag to the side and placed the other one next to it, “No, I don't think he's here to rob me. That only happened once! Okay, I'm going now, I'll text you when I'm off, bye!”

The man flipped the phone closed dramatically, tucking it into a pocket of his apron as he nearly ran the length of the counter, stopping at the corner and dazzling Virgil with a bright smile. “Hi- Hello- Welcome! My name’s Roman, I'll be helping you out today! Obviously.” Roman shifted from side to side as he leaned against the counter with his palms. His smile was growing more and more embarrassed the more he talked, and Virgil nearly felt bad for him.

“I’m, uh,” Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and smiled slightly from under his hood, “Virgil. I'll be the one your helping out today. Obviously.” Virgil was trying his hardest to come across as lighthearted and slightly sarcastic, and he was relieved to see Roman relax.

“Nice to meet you,” Roman gestured Virgil over to one of the stools at the counter and immediately slipped a cup of coffee towards Virgil the minute he took his seat. Virgil warmed with appreciation that the guy just kind of _knew_ what Virgil would ask for. He took a sip of the strong coffee, and instantly his shoulders relaxed at the wonderful warmth in his stomach. Calm overcame the anxiety-wracked boy, and Virgil deduced that the only way the coffee could have such a strong effect on him was through the use of magic.

“So, is there anything else I could get for you, Virge,” Roman smiled as he shuffled to a sink a few paces away and washed his hands. Virgil pulled a laminated menu from a stand in front of him and looked it over halfheartedly. Virgil was past the point of hunger where he was having pains and now he was just nauseous. He didn't want something that may cause his nausea to worsen.

“Uh,” Virgil said as his eyes scanned through options of eggs, pancakes, hash browns, “Just toast, honestly.”

Roman looked over at Virgil curiously, mid-drying his hands on a paper towel.

“Just...toast,” Roman repeated, as though Virgil had just given him the most complex order in human history. Virgil just nodded, sliding the menu away and sipping at his black coffee. Roman fully turn towards Virgil, leaning against the counter and giving Virgil a scrutinizing once over.

Virgil tensed under the intense gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, matching Roman’s stare with his own, “What?”

Roman just shook his head, tossing his paper towel into a trash can before standing in front of Virgil and leaning against the counter with his forearms.

“Listen, I don't mean to make assumptions but I have a feeling you're not here for the fun of it,” Roman said, eyes not quite meeting Virgil’s, “And, frankly, you look like hell.”

Virgil’s mouth popped open like he had been smacked and was nearly about to give Roman a piece of his mind before Roman held up a finger, rushing to cut Virgil off. “That didn’t come out right, but my point remains the same. You look like you haven't slept in a week, your hair is sticking out from under your hood, you're drinking that coffee like it's going to give you the secrets to the universe, and your skin is nearly the same shade as my shirt. If I had to guess, you're in high school or college and nearly killing yourself over finals.” Roman met Virgil’s eyes with a tenderness Virgil didn't know he could ever see from a stranger and whatever scathing remark Virgil was prepared to unleash on Roman died in his throat. “Am I wrong?”

Virgil was baffled. Utterly baffled. This stranger had just unraveled him to his core in ten seconds and left him completely exposed. He felt raw, but, somehow, almost better. Someone saw what was happening on the inside of Virgil’s head, and that was almost a relief.

“No,” Virgil whispered finally, eyes slipping to his coffee, “You're not wrong...but...how…?”

“I’m an actor,” Roman smiled over his shoulder as he moved down the line to a fridge and removed a carton of eggs, “Reading characters, people, kind of becomes second nature.” He started a griddle and procured a pan from a rack. “And, I've got a friend like you. Sometimes he gets stuck in his own head too.”

Roman moved around the kitchen, chopping and dicing and cooking. Virgil was hypnotized, even though he was very sure Roman was definitely not just making toast. Virgil watched quietly as Roman hummed to himself as he filled up Virgil’s cup, occasionally flipped something very much egg-like in his pan, and tidied up the diner. The grace that Roman moved with was calming to Virgil, and neither one of them tried to upset the comfortable lull in conversation.

A few minutes passed and Roman finally plated an omelette in front of Virgil. It was colorful, yellow mixing with bits of green and red and brown. It smelled phenomenal and Virgil had to check that he wasn't drooling.

“This looks amazing,” Virgil murmured as he slid the plate closer and dove into his silverware for a knife and fork, “Thank you.”

“Figured you would probably like something a little more filling than just toast,” Roman shrugged as a smug smile pulled at his lips. Virgil was holding back no hesitation as he cut apart the omelette and shoved a piece into his mouth, nearly groaning from the exceptional flavors. Roman’s smug smirk was notable out of the corner of his eye but Virgil couldn't care less. He was more focusing on getting as much of the omelette as he could into his stomach. It was flavorful but still pretty light, and Virgil’s stomach activated with a fury, rumbling loudly. Roman laughed under his breath, turning away to clean up the ingredients he'd pulled out.

Virgil had started to slow halfway through the omelette, and Roman was lingering nearby as he wiped down the countertop. The counter was spotless, but Roman was wiping it down in slow, smooth circles. Every so often, their eyes would meet and then quickly skirt away. Roman moved closer to Virgil, almost an arm’s reach away, and the tension in the room was making Virgil’s skin tingle. He was on the edge of something, and Roman was pulling him in like a magnet. He just wish he knew whatever the something was.

“So,” Roman murmured, eyes focused on polishing the salt shaker in his hands, “What brings you out in the dead of night?”

_What a loaded question._

Virgil didn't want to admit that it was because only an hour ago, he was hyperventilating in his dark bedroom, trying and failing at soothing another inevitable panic attack. That the thoughts in his head had turned monstrous and vicious, ripping into his soul with bared teeth. That he couldn't stop thinking about how pointless his own existence was, and that he was within an inch of ending it. He didn't want to admit that the thought of a world without him scared him from his own room and that he needed to escape his loneliness before it swallowed him whole.

Virgil shrugged, keeping his eyes on his omelette as he pushed the remaining scraps around his plate. “Just looking for a little company I guess.”

Roman was watching him out of the corner of his eye and Virgil didn't know if the watchful gaze was comforting or not. With Roman around, he was vulnerable. But honestly, he kind of needed to be vulnerable. If he kept going the way he was, there was no telling how he might end up.

“Well,” Roman said after a beat, setting the shaker down and leaning on the counter in front of him, stare far away as he looked out the window behind Virgil, “If you ever need company, I'm always here.”

Something monumental clicked in Virgil and the boy looked at Roman. Their eyes met, and instead of skirting skillfully away, they held each other’s gaze. Virgil knew he didn't need to say anything, that Roman _knew_ what Virgil meant. Understanding passed over them like a blanket and the boys smiled at each other. Virgil couldn't help but notice the way Roman’s eyes crinkled and that his grin was off center. Even with the slicked back hair and the period clothing, Roman was...cute. Very cute, actually.

“Ya know, I gotta say, I'm pretty happy you aren't some burglar or something,” Roman joked as he pushed off the counter, turning back to the coffee pot and standing in front of Virgil, “Having a regular customer really does make my night.”

A little bit of confidence overtook Virgil, and he uncharacteristically pointed his fingers out in finger guns as he smirked, “Who’s to say I’m not here to steal your heart?”

Virgil was anticipating Roman to laugh it off and move on, but the boy paused, cheeks coloring crimson as he reached for Virgil’s coffee cup and matched Virgil’s smirk, “Who’s to say I want you to?”

Virgil wasn't much for flirting, seeing as no one usually flirted with him. Any false bravado he had melted as his face grew hot and his smirk dropped into something more self-conscious. Being flirted with was new. Now he knew what people meant by the term ‘butterflies’.

Virgil mind grasps desperately at a new subject, “Can I get the check? My dad will be worried if he wakes up and I'm not home.”

Roman smiled gently as he cleared Virgil’s plate away, “Don't worry about it.”

The heat in Virgil’s face did not subside and he could feel his jaw drop. “I'm not gonna leave here without paying! You cooked me an amazing breakfast!”

“I didn't cook anything from the menu, though,” Roman smiled cheekily as he placed the plate in the sink and leaned on the counter in front of Virgil with his arms crossed, “So I can’t ring you up for anything, anyway. Besides, your company was payment enough.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous,” Virgil huffed, sinking onto the stool, “I’m not worth a good meal.”

“No,” Roman pretended to ponder, his index finger tapping against this chin, “I would say you’re worth ten good meals.” His smile was playful, beautiful. “Guess that means you'll have to come back again soon.”

Virgil was sidelined. Roman was unabashedly, shamelessly _flirting_ , and Virgil was really liking it. “...that’s definitely not a fair trade.”

Roman just shrugged as he slipped away Virgil’s mug, pouring the last bit into a travel cup and popping a lid on efficiently. “I think it's pretty fair. Either way, you've got to be home soon, yeah? Should probably hurry back before your dad wakes up.”

“Are you kicking me out,” The corner of Virgil’s mouth pulled up in amusement, even though he was more confused than ever. Roman smiled as he handed the cardboard cup across the counter towards Virgil.

“How about this? We can discuss our payment arrangement next time you come in.” With Roman grinning at him, how in the world could Virgil say no?

Virgil looked between the cup and Roman’s disarming smile. He hesitated before sighing deeply and reaching for the cup. His fingers brushed Roman’s, sending sparks through his hand, leaving it tingling as he pulled the cup close. Roman’s entire posture screamed victory as he pulled back, a satisfied smile gently surfacing.

“Come back soon, Virgil,” Roman called as Virgil moved towards the door. He paused, turning towards the boy one last time. He couldn't help but fight the smile that pulled at his lips.

“See you later, Roman,” Virgil said back, waving slightly and pushing through the door. He could feel Roman’s eyes on his back as he crossed the street and traveled his way home. The warmth of the coffee kept Virgil’s fingers from freezing, and he could still smell the omelette on his hoodie. The past hour felt like a dream, a very vivid and unusual dream, but a dream Virgil didn't ever want to wake up from.

As Virgil relished the last sip of the indescribable coffee, he nearly tossed the cup in a bin along the side of the road before he noticed the writing on the side of the cup. He turned the cup over and stepped closer to a streetlight to examine the looping writing.

_Virgil,_

_Hope you didn't toss this cup without seeing this._

Virgil nearly laughed.

_I'm really glad you came in tonight. I hope you get some sleep and that finals treat you well. If you ever need my company, you know where to find me._

_~Roman_

Virgil felt the tears in his eyes, burning hot and nearly uncontainable. Roman didn't know him, not in the slightest, but those words were more than Virgil could have ever asked for. Who knew the kindness of strangers could be the thing he was looking for?

Underneath Roman’s name, Virgil saw a phone number. Without hesitation, Virgil entered the number into his phone, shooting the number a quick text.

_Hey Roman. It’s Virgil. Saw your message. Thank you. So much._

Virgil wasn't a poet by any means. But he had a feeling Roman would understand.

And Roman did. Whenever Virgil needed a consistency to his life during the next couple of weeks, it was inevitable that his feet brought him to the diner in the middle of the night. Roman always made him something special, something not on the menu, and Virgil made sure to be the best company he could. Roman would always send Virgil home with a cardboard cup, always with a personal message in pen, and Virgil would leave notes on the napkins on his way out. Even after finals, after winter break, after the new semester, Virgil would stop in the diner, seeing the goofy man in 60s clothing in the dead of night. And when Virgil graduated high school, bringing news that he would be attending a local college next fall, Roman swept the boy off his feet in an excited hug, twirling him around the restaurant and bragging to no one that his Virgil would be full fledged college kid. And it was that night, summer air permeating everything and the nostalgic smell of coffee surrounding them, that Virgil knew he loved the man. And that Roman loved him too.

Virgil knew that he found the company, the _something_ , he was looking for all those months ago, hidden in the early hours at a diner that smelled of coffee with a boy in 60s clothing and a cute smile. A boy named Roman.


End file.
